


Of Kneazles and Macarons

by SlytherinCat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, No war, Songfic, adorableness, ball of sass, movie soundtrack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinCat/pseuds/SlytherinCat
Summary: Antonin and his adorable daughter manage life well until a certain French witch decides to go after what she wants.





	Of Kneazles and Macarons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing-Me-a-Rare Volume 4.  
All the love for my beautiful Alpha Vino Amore who answered my ridiculous questions with brilliant ideas and helped me flesh out Alexa. 
> 
> Song Prompt - I'm A Believer - Smash Mouth - Shrek

* * *

_ Fleur _

Place Cachée was incredibly busy today. Everywhere she looked witches and wizards were rushing past her not paying attention to their surroundings. More than once she had to move aside to avoid a collision. 

She was annoyed. 

All she wanted to do was get new sets of work robes tailored. She had to replace her old ones because the uniform required for on-site assignments was different than in Britain. 

Thanks to the crowd it took her almost ten minutes to even reach the entrance to Rue Girardon where_ Maison Capenoir _ was located. She would have preferred her robes to be fashioned by the Delacour’s personal designer. However, the French branch of Gringotts had a long-standing contract with _ Capenoir _ and so she would order them there. 

Unfortunately, Rue Girardon was even more crowded. It was after all a narrow street which held a lot of popular shops like _ Cosme Acajor’s wand shop _ or _ Dr Aziz Branchiflore Apothecary _ . It didn’t help that the Quidditch shop _ Gaston McAaron _ was right next to _ Capenoir _. 

Despite her annoyance at all the people around her, she had missed France and the Wizarding District. Diagon Alley had its charms but there was history tying her to this place. 

Her grandmother had often taken her to Place Cachée because she was friends with the owner of the best confiserie in France, maybe even the world, _ Rammelle’s Enchantée. _ It was very fortunate for Fleur because if there was one thing she had always loved it was sweets. 

Clemence Delacour was a severe strict woman except when it came to her grandchildren. Neither Gabrielle nor Fleur had ever wanted for a thing. Although her little sister liked sweets she was more interested in sports, namely quidditch. Whenever they visited together they had to divide their time between _ Rammelle’s _ and _ McAaron, _even to this day.

Fleur admitted to herself without feeling too much shame that she couldn’t leave the house without having a piece of chocolate or a macaron with her. 

There was nothing she loved more than freshly made macarons. 

Since she had eaten her last batch before she left the house she made a mental note to visit _ Rammelle’s _ after ordering her robes. 

She was stuck behind a group of elderly witches at the moment who were trying to decide if they wanted to have coffee first or visit _ l’Animalerie Mignonne _ first _ . _ From how they were frantically moving their arms it looked kind of heated. 

Fleur noticed a gap on their left and took the opportunity to slip past them but not without catching a bit of their conversation. 

“…need to stop with the guilt trippin’, Manon. I didn’t mean to step on your cat. It’s not my fault that old skunk was determined to trip me.” 

“What do you mean skunk? She was a purebred Russian Blue! She doesn’t look remotely like a skunk! You old hag didn’t even apologize to her!” 

“Who are you callin’ a hag, you hag? I won’t apologize to a fluff ball!”

“Quit your yapping, you two relics!” A third voice cut in. “Let’s go to _ l’Animalerie _ so you can stop getting on everybody’s nerves about that old cat.” 

“Now, I don’t like the-“ 

Thankfully Fleur had finally passed the witches and was trying to manoeuvre her way further along. She could already see the storefront of the Quidditch Shop.

She couldn’t help but compare the French district to Diagon Alley again. There was a wider variety in Paris when it came to shops. But it was just as crammed in the little streets that fanned off of Place Cachée. 

It hadn’t been a difficult decision to return to France after working and living in London for four years. Training with the Goblins had been more demanding than she had imagined but she knew it was the best program. She was proud of this accomplishment especially considering that she had finished her training in two years instead of three. 

Because of her excellent training and the impressive reputation she had gained in her fieldwork, the French Gringotts branch had been more than happy to take her on. After almost a month off she would finally start work in a week at the beginning of April. 

She had missed home. Her family, her friends and of course the macarons. They just weren’t the same in England.

She had finally reached her goal and entered _ Maison Capenoir _. 

She had never actually been inside the robes shop and was honestly surprised how tasteful it was. She had expected the bustling hastiness that was a given in Madam Malkin’s. There was none of that here. 

The owner herself had attended to her being familiar with the required robes and had her measured and done for in no more than ten minutes. With a warm smile and compliments to the goblins, she was out the door again almost an hour earlier than she had anticipated. 

Maybe she should order here more often. 

Having nothing else on her agenda and in desperate need of some sugar she fought her way back to Place Cachée again to get her macarons at _ Rammelle’s _. 

* * *

_ Antonin _

He was poring over the notes and pictures his assistant had forwarded to him two days ago of an ancient Celtic necklace they had found in Scotland a month ago. He was fascinated by the piece. 

Since it had been found in Scotland, their main branch in London had taken over the analysis. Antonin knew that they had capable curse breakers on staff but none of them seemed to be able to figure out the enchantments and curses placed on the item. So they had sent a request for a second (or apparently fifth) opinion to France, to him. 

Because they knew he was the best. 

He knew it would take a few days before the necklace would make it to France. The goblins were always so reluctant to part with their treasures. The prospect of working on it had him almost twitching.

He was on leave for another three days, however. 

Despite that, he had already started a list of what tools and spells he could use to try to figure out the mystery necklace. He almost couldn’t believe they hadn’t tried some of them already. It was curse-breaking one-o’-one to try the- 

“Papa?” 

Antonin’s head snapped up at the loud voice of his daughter but he couldn’t see her standing in the door. Had he imagined it? How long had he been sitting at his desk? 

There was an impatient tug on his sleeve. 

“Papa!” Her voice sounded adorably miffed. 

He had to fight the snort when he turned to her. That would undoubtedly get him into trouble with his little girl. She was tapping her foot with crossed arms and stared at him indignantly. 

He was in trouble. 

“How long have you been trying to get my attention?” He asked her with a guilty smile. 

She frowned. 

“Too long. Mémé said I should leave you alone but I’m bored.” 

“Why not play with mémé?” He asked while brushing hair out of her eyes. 

The look she gave him made him feel quite stupid and he pulled his hand back. 

“She went home.” 

Oh. How much time had passed? His mother had been teaching his daughter since nine this morning. He glanced at the clock and felt even more guilty. Five hours had passed and he couldn’t even tell. 

“Have you eaten?” He asked his six-year-old.

She nodded still with her arms crossed.

“Mémé took me to _ Rammelle’s _ after class and I had twelve macarons! I counted them.” Alexa stated proudly with a sly glint in her eyes. 

Sometimes his little girl was too cunning, too defiant and too over the top for a six-year old. She knew macarons weren’t a good lunch and twelve definitely too many. His mother had probably tried to assuage his little girl for having to wait for her papa even when he was supposed to be on vacation. 

He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of stating that fact outright, though. 

“Twelve macarons, huh? Well,…you know what that means?” He asked her with a heavy sigh taking her hands in his. 

“We need to change dinner plans because macarons are perfect food?” She asked her eyes innocently wide. 

He bit back another snort. Oh, she was on a roll today. 

“No, little lady. We need to burn off the excess sugar.” He chuckled. 

In one fluid motion, he had risen from his chair and picked her up. 

“Papa! I can walk!” 

“Da, I know, but we are not walking. We are dancing.” He replied and flicked his free hand towards the radio on the shelf. 

His daughter squealed in delight and wiggled in his arms to be put down. He obeyed immediately but kept her hands firmly in his. Lifting her up again slightly so she could stand on his feet he started to dance them through his office to the song she so loved. 

_ And then I saw her face _

_ Now I'm a believer _

_ And not a trace _

_ Of doubt in my mind _

_ I'm in love _

_ I'm a believer _

_ I couldn't leave her _

_ If I tried _

He sang along and Alexa laughed at him. She hopped down from his feet and let go of one of his hands. With the other still in his, she started to twirl and jump around him. 

_ I thought love was more or less a given thing _

_ More I gave the less I got, oh yeah _

_ What's the use in trying? _

_ All you get is pain _

_ When I wanted sunshine, I got rain _

_ And then I saw her face _

_ Now I'm a believer _

_ And not a trace _

_ Of doubt in my mind _

_ I'm in love _

_ I'm a believer _

_ I couldn't leave her _

_ If I tried _

His face was hurting from smiling so much. He guided her through her twists and turns and thought his heart would burst with all the love he felt for her. 

After the song had ended he lowered the volume and sat down with her on the couch next to his desk. She buried into his side and they sat there quietly listening to the radio in the background. 

“Tell me more about what you did today with mémé. What did you learn? Where did you go?” 

She lifted her head and grinned up at him. 

“I learned about magical creatures. Mémé showed me pictures of crups and bowtruckles and pixies and flatterworms. Papa, flatterworms are boring but can we get a ken-...a neet-...” she humphed frustrated. “...one of those big cats? They have plushy ears and are so pretty and smart, like me!” 

Antonin chuckled at his daughter’s enthusiasm and her confidence. He hoped she would never lose it. 

“So you learned about flobberworms, huh? But you’re right, they are boring.” 

She frowned. 

“No Papa, it’s flatterworm. I know what they are called.” 

He stifled another laugh at her annoyed look. 

“Whatever you say.” He stated with a smirk. 

She nodded pleased with herself. 

“So we can have a kineee-...a cat?” She sat up straight her eyes sparkling. 

He should’ve seen that coming. This was the third time he had to shoot down some sort of cat or pet she wanted to have. 

“I’m sorry but not at the moment. We will talk about it again in a few years.” He told her decidedly. 

Her face fell but she knew that there was no arguing about that point. She slumped back against him and cuddled into his side. 

“Papa?”

She sat up on her knees and stared at him intently. 

“Yes, Alexa?”

“I saw the most beautiful woman today.” 

“You did?” He prompted her. 

She nodded eagerly. 

“She got macarons too, more than I ate! She had a big box of them. She was so beautiful and she smiled at me!”

“You met someone who can eat more macarons than you can? Preposterous!” He said in mock outrage. 

“No, she didn’t eat them she just took them, papa! Pay attention.” She stated exasperated.

He chuckled and she started to explain every detail she could remember getting more and more excited with every thing she saw or did. 

* * *

Three days later while they were having dinner with his mother. The mood was an entirely different one. 

“I don’t want you to go!” 

“Alexa, I’ve been home for two weeks. I have to go back to work. You knew that.” 

His daughter was trying to convince him since they’d sat down to eat. 

He knew this was going to be a problem the moment he started his vacation time two weeks ago. He loved his daughter and he loved his work. Unfortunately, the love for his work took him away from his daughter too often and she hated it, with good reason. 

These past two weeks he had tried to spend as much time as possible with her. Taking her all over the country and visiting famous ruins. She was after all his daughter so she was just as interested in ancient relics and places than he was. She just didn’t want him to leave her for working with these things again especially if she couldn’t see them herself. 

He would bring her with him as often as he could. The goblins and his coworkers loved her but there were times where it was just too dangerous or inconvenient for a child to tag along. Curse breaking was still a risky business from time to time. He didn’t know if he was lucky she was interested in it or doomed.

Tomorrow would be his first day back and he just didn’t have the time to bring her along. The necklace he had been fascinated by had been brought in and he knew it would claim his entire day. He also knew how much paperwork had been accumulating on his desk thanks to his assistant keeping him up to date. 

“I want to come with you.” She said changing tactics. 

He threw a glance to his mother who had been quiet so far. her mouth was pinched she wouldn’t listen to this much longer.

“Not tomorrow. I won’t have any time at all.” 

“But I can stay with Ragnar. I like him. We always go into the relic vault and he shows me new stuff that was brought in. It’s so cool, papa! Please!” 

He sighed. Ragnar was one of the younger goblins and he had been told multiple times to not take her in there without him. It wasn’t dangerous per se, he just didn’t like her being around formerly cursed objects without him close by. She was his little girl after all. 

“You know that I don’t like you going in there without me and I will talk to Ragnar _ again _.” He told her with an edge to his voice. “You’re not coming with me tomorrow.” 

“But papa-“

“End of discussion. Now eat your mashed potatoes.” 

“I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t? Why not?”

“They make my mouth more sad” 

He tried, he really tried but he couldn’t help the grin. 

His daughter ever observant, did not miss it and attacked again.

“I need to come with you to-”

“Alexa, you heard your father. Enough! Besides, I have planned for you to learn more about magical beasts tomorrow. Now, stop arguing and eat.” 

The finality in his mother’s voice would stop even his stubborn daughter. She still looked like she wanted to protest but then decided to pout instead. She did pick her fork back up though, so that was a tiny win. It wasn’t beyond her to refuse to eat until she got what she wanted. 

He was to blame for that. He had immense trouble saying no to her. But lately, he felt like it was all he was doing. Again the guilt set in. The guilt about not being home as much as they both would like. The guilt about being too strict when he was home. Followed by the unavoidable guilt of being her only parent. 

The rest of dinner passed in silence. He was caught up in his own thoughts when his mother declared them done and cleaned up the dishes with a wave of her wand. 

“May I be excused?” His daughter asked formally.

“Come say goodbye to me, then you can go up to your room, poppet.” His mother replied and stood up. 

Alexa seemed to contemplate if she would do it but she loved her mémé too much and hugged her close. 

“I love you so much, little poppet.” His mother whispered to her. 

“I love you too, mémé.” She mumbled. 

She stepped back threw him a reproachful look and went upstairs. 

Antonin sighed and hung his head. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Darling.” His mother turned to him having seen the guilty expression on his face. “You know she can’t come with you tomorrow and she’ll be fine with me. You can take her with you at the end of the week.” 

She stepped closer to him and cupped his cheek. 

“You’re doing a wonderful job with her, even if I think you’re too lenient with her sometimes.” 

He swallowed the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t the one letting her eat too many sweets. But voicing that would earn him a smack on the head. 

“I’m proud of you and so, I am sure, is she.” his mother continued.

He looked up at that and knew she wasn’t talking about his daughter. 

“Thank you, mama.”

After his mother had left he decided to go up and try to clear the air.

He found her already buried underneath her blankets ready to sleep. It was 7pm, still two hours away from her bedtime. She was pouting heavily and didn’t look up when he sat down on her bed. 

“Alexa, I-”

“Will you tell me a story?” she interrupted him. 

Slightly taken aback he leaned forward and ran his fingers across her forehead brushing her hair out of her eyes. A smile stole onto his own face when she looked at him and he saw she wasn’t angry. 

“Of course, what story would you like to hear?”

“A story of me, you and maman. I don’t remember her.” 

His heart broke a little. 

She’d been two years old when her mother...his wife had died. There were very few pictures of her because they just never thought they’d need them of her. They took so many of Alexa but somehow in most of them his wife’s face was blurred or cut off. Sometimes he thought it was a sign. What kind he didn’t know but the thought always made him feel better somehow. 

He thought for a moment what to tell her. There were so many things she didn’t know about her mum, yet. Things he would be able to tell her in time. 

“There was a cat”, he started. 

Her eyes snapped to his and a sparkle was back. 

“A kneazle actually. Your mother never wanted pets but I loved them.” 

The sparkle intensified.

“We had just moved in here and I think we actually learned about you that day.” he tapped her nose and she scrunched it up. He laughed. 

“I came home from work one day and he was just sitting there to the side staring at the front door like it belonged to him. When I opened it he ran inside and hid under the little dresser by the stairs. I couldn’t get him out no matter what I did.” 

He could see his daughter was already enraptured. 

“When your mum came home and saw the cat she didn’t say a word. She just gave me one of her looks and stalked off. You have that looked too little lady.” he smirked at her and she grinned.

“She ignored me for three days, no words nothing. Another thing you have already down.” he teased her.

“What happened to the nizzle?” she asked with wide eyes ignoring his comment. 

“He followed her around the entire time and she caved. It didn’t even take three days for her. That first night I had to sleep on the sofa and the cat got to sleep in the bed. He was a part of this family ever since. She called him Mikel. “

“I think mémé showed me a picture of him. It was different from the other pictures of the animals. He was beautiful but looked so mean.” 

“That he was. When you were born you two couldn’t be separated. He would not leave your side. I’m sure mémé has more pictures of you and him. Your mum loved that cat very much, just like she loved you.” He cupped her cheek and leaned down to give her a kiss on her forehead then he stood up and turned to leave. 

“Where is Mikel now?” she asked when he was at the door. 

He didn’t turn around.

“I don’t know. The day your mum didn’t come home neither did he.” 

It was silent for a bit. 

“Will we ever have a kneazle?” 

He smiled at the proper pronunciation. 

“Maybe.”

* * *

_ Fleur _

She was late. She hated being late. She was never late and yet here she was. Her third week on the new job and running late because she hadn’t been able to put down that fascinating Indian urumi sword she was assigned to. 

There was supposed to be a meeting with all the curse breakers to get a feel about current projects and how they were progressing with the breaking of the curses. That’s what it had said on the memo, exactly. Goblins, weird little creatures. 

She rushed towards the closing elevator doors as fast as she could and almost got her hand snapped in half when she managed to wedge it in between and get in. She stumbled through almost crashing into the only other person inside. 

Sweet mother of...he was exquisite. There was simply no other word for it. She had to look up because she only reached his shoulder. 

His dark hair was slightly too long and shaggy. It fell into his eyes which threw interesting shadows across his face that made his features look sharper. His rugged beard was inviting her to scratch through it. 

When she managed to drag her gaze away from his face she noticed how his robes fit so very well with hints of muscle hidden underneath. His frame seemed large in the small elevator and she suddenly felt hot. 

With as much dignity as she could muster in her sweaty breathless state, she righted herself and stepped next to him facing the doors. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” 

She closed her eyes briefly. How in the world was his voice so scratchy and dark at the same time? And how was it that something inside her stomach decided to clench exactly now. Completely unrelated, of course.

“I’m...fine, thank you”, she managed. 

She wanted a fan. She also wanted to know who he was. 

“I’m Fleur by the way”, she prompted and held out her hand turning towards him. “I started three weeks ago.”

She noticed his adam’s apple moving before he took her hand hesitantly. 

“Welcome to Gringotts Paris.” he said with a smile. 

His hand was warm and slightly calloused. Everything about him screamed strong so far and it resonated with her in ways she hadn’t known before. 

“Thank you.” She was still holding his hand and felt almost bad for it. Almost.

Then he pulled back and she felt the loss. Before she could say anything else the elevator doors opened and he stepped outside quickly. Without thinking it through she followed him. 

She had trouble keeping up with him and cursed inwardly when he rounded a corner ahead of her. 

She heard a child squeal and sped up. In her three weeks here she had seen only one child in the hallways where the offices were located and she was the most sassy six year old she had ever met. 

When she reached the corner she immediately saw them. They were still a few paces ahead. He had picked up the little girl and she was talking animatedly. It was the little girl she had befriended a few days ago. She had started talking with her when she’d recognized her from _ Rammelle’s _. Alexa. They had talked about her dad a lot. She just hadn’t known who he was. Seemed like that was answered now. 

When she saw Fleur her second squeal echoed through the hallway and the handsome specimen of a man turned around spotting her. 

Alexa was wiggling happily. 

“Papa, papa! That’s the lady I told you about. The one I met at _ Rammelle’s _ and the one who is showing me the spells that make light! Fleur!” Alexa was waving her over. 

Closing the distance between them she couldn’t take her eyes off him. The way he was holding his daughter did things to her that she didn’t want to acknowledge at all. 

Again she broke the silence.

  
“How come I haven’t seen you around yet? I’ve met Alexa so often.” she asked him directly. 

“You probably got lucky”, he chuckled darkly and promptly earned himself a swat from his daughter. 

Now it was Fleur’s turn to chuckle. 

“Papa, you have to be nice to her! I want her to be my new mum!“ 

* * *

_ Antonin _

Why did she have to follow him? It was hard enough not reacting to her for two minutes in an elevator. How was he supposed to keep himself in check with her standing in front of him. 

When she had stumbled into the elevator he was floored. He had never seen a woman quite like this. She had long blonde hair that was tied back in an intricate braid which freed up her delicate face. He had noticed her eyes first. Not only were they a beautiful mix of blue and green, they also held a sparkle. Something that drew him in. 

When she had righted herself he couldn’t help but observe her frame. Like her face she was delicate which made him feel like he needed to protect her from anything that could harm her. 

That thought had sobered him up a little. The last time he had felt such an immediate response, almost connection to someone, he had married her.

“Papa, you have to be nice to her! I want her to be my new mum!“ 

He choked on his spit and felt his face flush. 

“You have to be joking. I can’t just walk up to a random witch and say, hello I know we don’t know each other but will you be my wife?“ he said not looking at the woman in question to buy himself time. 

What was he supposed to say? He would either offend his daughter which always broke his heart or the breathtakingly beautiful woman in front of him, which admittedly seemed to be what he always did. 

“Why not Papa? Witches like honest wizards and she gets to be my mum. That should make her want to say yes.” 

He wore a torn expression. He felt a mix of desperation, humor and even intrigue, but the latter would be ignored. 

His daugher stared at him with an exasperated look like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She kept wiggling in his arms to be let down just to make a point of putting her hands on her hips when he let her. 

Before he could think of anything to get him out of this situation, Fleur answered for him.

“You know she’s right. We do like honest wizards.” 

He just stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t take that as-

“You could also just start by asking ‘Will you go on a date with me?’” she smirked. 

__________________

He was standing in front of his bedroom mirror having forgotten how to put on socks and not sure which shirt to choose. 

It was their third date today and he had invited her to his house. The first two dates had been incredible but he had held himself back. There had been moments where a kiss seemed perfect but he had turned away or broke the moment before he could let himself fall. 

He had promised himself he would do it tonight. The attraction that had slammed into him in the beginning had in the blink of an eye turned to true affection...and that scared him shitless. 

The bedroom door flew open and Alexa bounded in and threw herself on the bed. 

“Papa, you’re not wearing a shirt.” 

“I know. Can you help me pick one out?”

She nodded eagerly and jumped down again. He picked her up so she could reach comfortably into his closet. It took her all of three seconds to decide on a dark blue button-down. She had impeccable taste. 

After he had put it on she was kneeling next to him on the bed playing with his beard seemingly absorbed with her task. 

He was lost in thought thinking about Fleur and what the night would bring. He would bring Alexa to his mother shortly. 

“Why don't girls grow beards?” she asked him eyeing his chin. 

“They can’t.” he replied. 

“We can do anything we want.”

He looked at her then chuckled. 

“Can’t argue with that.”

She was silent again.

“Why did you grow a beard?” she demanded. 

He eyed her again. 

“I think it looks good on me.”

A pause. Then. 

“So it’s not because you’re slowly turning into a bear?” she whispered.

He fought hard to control his humor.

“Don’t believe everything mémé tells you.” he managed after a moment. 

She looked at him suspiciously and he tried to look as innocent as possible. Again she was silent but she had stopped playing with his beard and burrowed into his side.

She was still so little. He didn’t want to think about how fast she would grow up and go to school and oh shit...met boys. That would not be happening until she was at least forty-five. He was a scary curse breaker and talented with spell invention no boy would ever be able to-. 

“When are we having ice cream?” she interrupted his thoughts with a mumbled question into his side. He frowned.

“We’re not.”

She raised her head to give him one of her reproachful looks.

“One of us is wrong.”

He grimaced to hide his smile. That girl really tested his resolve. 

“Fleur is coming over in half an hour and I’m cooking for her. You will be at mémé’s for the night.” 

“I know, but we could have ice cream now.” she tried. 

He shook his head and kissed the top of her head. 

“Come on, little lady. Let’s get you ready.” 

* * *

“Monsieur Lacroix was my favorite teacher by far! But…”

“His breath?” He laughed. 

Fleur grimaced but then joined in. “Oh, it was horrible. You couldn’t stand even remotely close to him. The front row was always empty.” She played with her wine glass and held his gaze.

“I remember that. I think that is a time honored tradition in his course. It also made the back of the class very crowded.” He took a sip of his own glass. He felt nervous suddenly. 

“Which could have its advantages.” Fleur added reminiscing with a slight blush. 

Antonin picked up on her meaning and couldn’t help but grip his fork a little tighter. He let out a quiet laugh that hopefully didn’t sound as forced to her as it did to him. 

He did remember that class well and Fleur was right. It was the perfect setting to get his hand under a skirt or in return have a hand trail up his thigh. There had been more than one occasion where he had to excuse himself to the bathroom or disappear into an alcove with his girl after this particular class. The crowded back of the class had shielded frolicking students for years. He had not been an exception. But the only girl he had touched had been his wife. 

He felt guilty about thinking of her when she’d been dead for more than four years and he was sitting across from a stunning witch who had made him laugh more than he could count these last few weeks and particularly these last few hours. 

His mother had told him more than once that he should try to let the memories rest. To not have his life ruled by a ghost. He just didn’t know how to make it stop. He was reminded of her every day when he looked at his perfect little Alexa. The best thing he had accomplished in his life. 

He refused to forget about his wife just because his own mother thought it was unhealthy. She herself had closed her heart and mind off to any memories of Antonin’s father after his death. He was convinced his mother had it wrong, at least mostly. 

He knew that his late wife was still a part of his life and he wouldn’t want to change that. But he had noticed that remembering her felt less like pain and more like a dull ache. An ache that reminded him of beautiful moments spent together, of whispered conversations and a longing to have that again. 

Oh, he had tried to date again, over the years, occasionally at least, because it seemed like every female he knew or didn’t for that matter was suddenly interested in him after he became a widower. 

Love was out to get him, at least that’s the way it had seemed. All he got from trying however was a disappointment and it haunted him even in his dreams. Maybe he had tried to get over her too quickly, maybe the pain from losing her had overshadowed any possibility of finding love again. Maybe he didn’t want to bring someone new into Alexa’s life at all. Maybe it was the culmination of all three and so many more reasons. 

He had stopped because what was the use in trying if you only get pain? But now sitting here looking at Fleur, seeing her face with all its intricacies and subtle changes he was starting to believe again. 

“Antonin? Are you okay?” She was frowning slightly and he could see that she felt bad about her comment. “I apologize I didn’t mean to offend you or be too forward. It was just a thoughtless comment because it was the norm in Monsieur Lacroix’s class. I thought-“

He reached across the table and took her hand gently. 

“Stop. Don’t apologize. I wasn’t lying, I do remember that class well. I’m guilty of taking advantage of that classroom too.” He smirked slightly. 

Her eyes brightened and she blushed again, almost unnoticeable. He had leaned closer while holding her hand and could see the discreet color change in her cheeks. Her face was remarkably expressive once he got to know her better.

Their eyes met and the intensity of her gaze drew him further in. He didn’t move. He didn’t look away. He didn’t want to. His fingers stroked her skin slowly. 

She leaned forward and her eyes dropped down to his mouth breaking the spell that held him in her gaze. He lowered his eyes to his plate and leaned back a little, halting her advance but keeping her hand in his. 

When he looked up again he could see the disappointment clouding her eyes. He wanted to kiss her but he felt like he couldn’t yet. Not without explaining why he just got lost in thought...again. It had happened more than he would like to admit. 

“It’s her, isn’t it?” She broke the awkward silence between them. 

He opened his mouth to deny it, despite the fact that he had just decided to explain but he closed it again. How did she now?

She nodded. “You’re not ready.” 

He looked at her dumbly. “How did you know about her?”

As soon as the words had left him he knew the answer.

“Alexa.” They both said at the same time and their eyes met again. 

There was a heavy silence hanging over them. A sort of tension. 

“Have you finished your dessert?” He asked her quietly. 

A slight frown had returned to her face but she nodded. Still holding her hand he rose and pulled her up with him. He led her to the sofa and they set down at an angle facing each other. Their knees touching. 

She pulled her hand back but he didn’t take it as a rejection. Not like she took his lack of response to their almost kiss...kisses. He stretched his arm over the back of the sofa. His hand close to her in case he got the courage to touch her neck. 

Here went nothing.

* * *

_ Fleur _

He had told her about his late wife. Everything he was able to. How they had met, build their life together, had the perfect little girl that she had led into her heart and then how his wife had died and left behind a void that had been hard for him to live with. 

She understood a part of it. She didn’t try to tell him she knew how he felt. That would be a disrespectful lie. Instead, she leaned closer and cupped his cheek.

“I haven’t had this kind of darkness in my life yet. Not like you, but I’m happy to help you shoulder yours if you let me.” 

His eyes widened a fraction before they showed her a level of warmth that rose up all the way through her. 

This time it was him who leaned closer. She didn’t make a move, letting him set the pace although the closeness without touching was torture. 

Then she felt his lips touch hers softly and everything vanished but him. They were just as warm as hers, slightly damp from licking his lips too often out of nervousness. She could taste a hint of the dessert they had.

She kept her hand on his cheek and just enjoyed the feel of his lips. 

He pulled back again a little and she opened her eyes curiously. 

He had his still closed. 

“Tell me something I can hold onto forever and never let go.” he said quietly. 

She waited until he opened his eyes and looked at her. His gaze pleading and so deep she could drown in it. 

“Let go.” 

They leaned forward at the same time. Their lips meeting again, moving against each other in patterns only they could match. When his tongue teased her lower lip she readily met him with hers and the patterns turned into a dance of sensual movements, scents and sensations. 

Their hands explored each other. Their eyes told each other their feelings. Their bodies showed each other intimacy and affection.

They were home. 

* * *

_ One Year Later _

_ Antonin _

  
  


“Are you coming? We’re going to be late!” Fleur called from downstairs. 

He was standing at the second landing of the stairs staring at the wall. He could hear her heels click on the wooden staircase as she climbed up to him after not receiving an answer. 

“Antonin? Didn’t you hear me?” She turned her head towards the slice of the wall he was staring at. “What’s wrong?” 

He turned to her, stricken again by how beautiful she was. He was a lucky man.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” he leaned forward and kissed her, more intensely than he had intended. She returned it happily though. He would never get enough of this. 

“And I’m done. Let’s go.” he finished after pulling back a little. 

She shook her head with an indulgent smile. Then she turned to the wall again. 

“It’s perfect.” 

He looked at her then at the wall then back to her.

“I believe that it is.” 

  
  


* * *

_ Alexa _

I wait until they are gone. It wouldn’t do to let them know I'm still awake. It’s late. Papa had tucked me in two hours ago but I wanted to see it for myself. 

Mémé is downstairs, I can see the light shining through the handrail. She won’t hear me. She is probably asleep but just to be safe I tiptoe towards the stairs and make my way down the few steps to the second landing. Then I turn to the wall. 

I close my eyes and stretch out my hand palm up. It doesn’t take me long at all to conjure the little ball of light Fleur showed me. She really is awesome. 

I hold the little ball up to the wall and look. 

The picture is bigger than I thought but that just makes it more special. I can see myself on the floor in front of the sofa holding a little red light. Papa called it a laser pointer, whatever that means. He got it from muggle Paris. But the best thing about it is how Mikel jumps after the beam of light whenever I move it. 

Papa is sitting on the sofa talking animatedly with Fleur next to him who his smiling one of her big smiles. The one she gave me in _ Rammelle’s _when I saw her for the first time. I can even make out mémé who is leaning against the door in the back. 

I feel Mikel moving around my legs purring at me. I bend down and manage to pick him up without losing the ball of light. I have to show Fleur and Papa tomorrow. The kneazle is almost too heavy for me to pick him up with one arm. 

“See Mikel, you’re in it too. We’re a family again. You, me, mémé, papa and mama.” I nuzzle my face into his fur and extinguish the light.

“Come on Mikel, let’s go to sleep.” 

  
  
  
  



End file.
